The morning they left Yinshi, mist curled low along the road. Xiao, wrapped in his cloak, cast one last look at the Wine & Colour Pavilion.
Yujin, beside him, held that silent Lan composure — but Xiao noticed his hand always hovered near his sleeve, ready.
By dusk: roadside market
Lanterns glowed amber and rose. Smells of chestnuts and ink hung in the air.
They paused by a bird-seller. Under silk covers:
a white bird, pure-feathered a perple bird, soft-eyed a red bird, restless a gray bird with a blood-red throat
Before Xiao could speak, Yujin disappeared.
He returned with two cages.
"For you," Yujin said, soft.
"Why these?" Xiao asked, voice shaking.
"Because they should fly together," Yujin replied. "Like we do."
Xiao took them. A thank-you lingered on his lips.
Back in Yinshi
The fake father cursed:
"If Xiao leaves, I lose half my coin."
To his servant:
"Tell the masked man: Xiao doesn't leave this province alive."